Wind in my hair I was there I remember it

Sasha Parnok. They/Them. Resident glitter guy.

[morganlittle]

Morgan was feeling both emboldened and discouraged by her very first interview this morning. The Quilters had given her and Drew an absolute run for their money. She felt okay about this next chat she planned to have. Mostly because she didn’t think it could get worse than the siblings. But also because Ingrid was definitely less of a… challenge? Or maybe just a challenge in a different way. One she knew she could keep up with.

She’d decided to walk over to see this wall and find out if Ingrid had time to talk. The fresh air gave her a moment to get rid of the antsy feeling she had been carrying with her. And she got her steps in, which always felt good.

“Hey!” she greeted the pair. She noted their joined hands, wondering if this was a thing and how long it had been one. “How’s it going?” She smiled warmly, hoping just being herself would make Ingrid more willing to talk to her. “I did have a few questions actually, yeah. Do you have some time to talk?”

@ingroj

[ingroj]

“Well, yeah, isn’t that part of a manicure?” Ingrid raised an eyebrow at them. In fairness, she did need it. Who wanted to get that up close and personal with her cuticles? Not her. But if Sasha really wanted to, that was their business not hers.

Ingrid straightened her skirt. Her heart was going to beat out of her chest. Morgan Little at her wall, wanting to talk to her. This was a moment worth remembering forever. Why the fuck didn’t they have instagram? Oh well, she’d have to take a picture on her phone and then print it out like a total weirdo.

“Yeah, of course. Would it be too weird if I asked for a selfie with you? This is kind of a big deal for me.” Maybe that wasn’t the cool way to talk about things, but this was Morgan Little. There was no point in trying to outcool her. She broke up with her boyfriend through a threesome. That was a whole new level of legendary.

“Oh..um..so Sasha and I are…” she lowered her voice, “Involved. That means they can hear whatever you want to ask me. We don’t believe in secrets.”

[sashaparnok]

Well, at least Ingrid had some sense. Sasha really hadn't been sure. Or perhaps was just more sure in the other direction. "I didn't expect you to know." They said, their voice clipped well enough to be in a movie from the thirties.

They wanted to melt into the floor as Ingrid fell over herself for Morgan. Perhaps Sasha had underestimated their own privilege in terms of hanging out with upper classmen, but between Blair's connections to Jacks and their own association with Drama Club, Morgan was just a person. Really, they were surprised that Ingrid didn't see her that way. She'd fitted her for costumes any number of times. But perhaps that was just it. When people viewed you like support staff, you thought that way. The only way Ingrid was going to get past this was if Sasha showed her.

So they interlaced their fingers tighter with Ingrid's, really selling it with a slight squeeze of her hand to both encourage and to keep her from going for the selfie. Well. At least with this hand. "That's right, mi amor. Ask away, Morgan."

@morganlittle

[wewerechildrenwerenotnow]

Phase: Before

Before we decide who we are, we must know who we were.

But do we really want to know? When the mists of the past part and reveal the little insecurities, the betrayals, the fleeting joys, what sticks? Is anything worth keeping?

Did they ever see the forest for the trees?

So press play and go.

[blairjha]

December was a bit dreary for Blair’s liking.

Usually.

Yet this December was different than the others that came before, and the reason for it was occupying West Ham High’s music room, all by their lonesome. Blair stood in the doorjamb for a minute, watching the figure at the piano, and didn’t feel inclined to say anything right away.

They were still finding their way, but Blair had the sense Sasha didn’t mind that he wasn’t much of a talker. He didn’t know that for sure, though, which did compel more than a few syllables out of his mouth.

“‘Clair de Lune’?” Blair joked quietly, finding a seat next to Sasha on the piano bench. Even he knew this movie. “You know Debussy?”

@sashaparnok

[sashaparnok]

Sasha resisted the urge to laugh. Yes, all pianists know Clair de Lune. "It's drilled into all of us at birth, unfortunately." They realized that could mean a lot of things. AMAB people. Queer people. Soccer players. Wow. They had more in common with Blair than Sasha had realized. "Pianists, I mean. Can't escape it. That and Moonlight Sonata. And Für Elise. And Bach's Prelude in C. And The Entertainer. Actually, there are a lot of points of trauma, I guess."

They still couldn't believe it sometimes when Blair talked to them. He was just so pretty but in a torturously masculine way. And yet oddly, impossibly safe. Which is why they took a chance, even if they swerved it into a joke at the last minute. "You here for the room or for me?"

[wewerechildrenwerenotnow]

Name: Sasha Parnok  Face Claim: Misha Osherovitch Played By: Lil Birthday: September 30th Parents: Lev Parnok (Father (Divorced) - David Krumholtz) and Odelia Prins (Mother (Divorced) - Neve Campbell) Friends: Nora (best friend), Luna (music buddies), Bronte (soccer/drama buddies), Mia, complicated former friendship with Ingrid Romance(s): (very) recent exes with Blair (six months), queer Hobbies/Clubs/Social Circle: Gifted pianist since childhood, Drama Club (Acting/Music Direction/Music composition), ‘Boys’ Soccer (whatever, it worked better with drama club scheduling), hanging around Sharpware

Sasha’s parents were supposed to be together forever. But all parents were, weren’t they? Maybe things would have been different if Lev and Odelia hadn’t decided to call it quits right when Sasha became a starter on the soccer team. Spending too much time on the field with West Ham’s handsome goalie led to spending too much off the field with said goalie. Their best friend Nora warned them gently, but Sasha still found themselves in a little bit of an 'all too well’ situation. Blair broke it off right when Sasha had finally gotten more comfortable with his family ('casually cruel in the name of being honest’ indeed), leaving poor Nora to pick up the pieces. 

But this was what great art is made of, right? And Sasha could always switch to girls soccer. They weren’t into drugs or parties, so there was no reason they’d ever have to see Blair ever again. Unless they were like, locked up someplace. But that would be sooo fucked up, right?

Follow them here!

[wewerechildrenwerenotnow]

Phase: Day Twelve

The lights are on, but no one’s home. Noah’s house is still smoking, and the mysteries are piling up. Oh, and there’s that government thing to worry about.  Might need a criminal justice system like now. 

So press play, and go.

[ingroj]

Ingrid was more than happy on her bench. It was clean and it gave her a decent view of people who might be wanting to come close to her wall. They might not be able to reach it, because of the bench, but she liked gauging interest.

Sasha sat next to her. It had taken some effort to get them to come over, but how would they look like a couple if they didn’t do things together? She glanced down at their hands. It wasn’t fair that they were prettier than hers. “You should do my nails. Matching would definitely be a thing that I would do in a relationship.”

Also, she hated doing her nails and they were probably good at it.

She saw Morgan approaching and felt butterflies in her stomach. She wasn’t sure that Morgan had ever stopped by her wall. More of the popular kids wanting her input on things was a definite win. She smoothed her dress and grabbed Sasha’s hand.

“Hi,” she called out, “It’s so nice of you to stop by. Let me know if you have any questions about what’s up there. Some details are too juicy to put up there.”

@sashaparnok

[sashaparnok]

It was weird. Very weird. And Sasha had given up on hiding their weird a long time ago, so this was doubly difficult. There had been a time when sitting next to Ingrid and getting compliments on their nails would have been peak euphoria for them, but that had been the fucking sixth grade.

"Fine." They agreed with more flatness than they probably intended. "As long as we can fix your cuticles." It was one thing to choose a more basic look because you lacked confidence. It was another to not do all the steps correctly.

Still, they tried to commit to the ruse. They studied the way the sun made Ingrid's skin glow, the way she seemed to smile regardless of whatever emotion she seemed to be feeling. It wasn't a good poker face. It was just a good... face. Bitch.

Somehow Sasha hadn't been aware that they were expected to act as Walmart greeters for the supposedly anonymous gossip wall. They were already doing a slight double take when Ingrid spoke to Morgan. But they were supposed to cover, weren't they? That's what boifriends did. Supposedly.

"Yeah. Um. Welcome to the wall."

@morganlittle

[norasharps]

wewerechildrenwerenotnow​:

Phase: Day Twelve

The lights are on, but no one’s home. Noah’s house is still smoking, and the mysteries are piling up. Oh, and there’s that government thing to worry about.  Might need a criminal justice system like now. 

So press play, and go.

If Nora walked any quicker, that smoky smell would start coming from her shoes.

Caffeinated Nora was a runaway train. She couldn’t be stopped. She was on a mission. Or, at least, continuing a mission she committed to all of an hour ago, which was to now make the rounds among her friends and see what they were up to and if they were doing okay. Yes, her synapses were firing on all cylinders. In the absence of a real schedule and more importantly, a hangover, Nora was going to Red Rover everyone she could think of until the caffeine ran out and her motivation dried up.

First Heli, now Sasha. (And last night, Frankie, who hovered in an unusual position between friend and a hopeful more.) Expertly balancing her second coffee and her phone in the same hand, Nora used the other to find the hide-a-key, get in, and finally drape herself over Sasha’s living room recliner like she owned it. Which she kind of did, unless you were a barbarian who didn’t respect dibs, or you ignored a decade of squatter’s rights, or you were a evil black cat with a passing fondness for Sharps.

“Good morning. Or morning, if it sucks. Does it? Mine doesn’t, though.” She poured more sugar into her cup. Being cheery was fun. She had something to be cheery about—a possibility. “Are you alive over there, or should I set up a caffeine IV?”

@sashaparnok​

[sashaparnok]

Sasha Parnok had made a terrible mistake. The last of several, but potentially the worst. Your contributions aren’t useless by default. You’re just wrong a bunch. It happens. It’s your idea. It’s a good idea. I think this is the beginning of a beautiful not-relationship. It wasn't exactly a meet-cute. In fact, it was as far from one as one could get. But Sasha had agreed to fake-date Ingrid Rojas. How the hell were they going to explain this to Nora?

And Nora was... happy. Like, eerily happy.

They schooled their expression into supportive. "No. Your thing first. Yours sounds nice. Looks nice."

They went to the espresso machine and flushed it like the noble person they were. "Did you and Frankie like, U-haul or something? Are we still allowed to U-haul? I suppose we have extra houses."

[wewerechildrenwerenotnow]

So the brightest minds in New Ham are bickering about guinea pigs, the government can’t decide how long they should take to read things, and some people want to know where Noah is. Others want to know why the fuck they should care.

But hatchets can be buried, peaces made. Secrets forgotten, people disappeared. Nothing helps like a party.

It’d be a shame if something was to happen to it. 

So press play and go.

[wewerechildrenwerenotnow]

Murder on the dance floor, murder on the dance floor, murder in the dark on the dance floor I really hope there isn’t a murder on the dance floor. (continued from here and here)

Keep reading

[wewerechildrenwerenotnow]

So the brightest minds in New Ham are bickering about guinea pigs, the government can’t decide how long they should take to read things, and some people want to know where Noah is. Others want to know why the fuck they should care.

But hatchets can be buried, peaces made. Secrets forgotten, people disappeared. Nothing helps like a party.

It’d be a shame if something was to happen to it. 

So press play and go.

[wewerechildrenwerenotnow]

The party begins, but the fun doesn’t last long. Tell me. Where were you when the lights went out in New Ham? (continued from here, continues here)

Keep reading

[wewerechildrenwerenotnow]

So the brightest minds in New Ham are bickering about guinea pigs, the government can’t decide how long they should take to read things, and some people want to know where Noah is. Others want to know why the fuck they should care.

But hatchets can be buried, peaces made. Secrets forgotten, people disappeared. Nothing helps like a party.

It’d be a shame if something was to happen to it. 

So press play and go.

[wewerechildrenwerenotnow]

Jacks’ skate party is about to begin, and really we’re all shivering with anticipation. (continued here and here)

Keep reading